


Requiem

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2229510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders walks the streets of Kirkwall in the aftermath of his rebellion to find he’s sacrificed much more than he wanted. Slight AU with none of that red lyrium nonsense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requiem

They never met at the Gallows. The last he remembered seeing of Hawke was her back, her arm stretched behind her pulling him along.

Anders wasn’t sure how long he had been unconscious, but the streets were empty.

Mournful cries echoed in the air, and he wondered if he’d missed the grand finale Varric said they were building up to. He must’ve been out for hours, because the sun was beginning to peek over the viscount’s way.

Broken glass crunched under his boots, but he stopped short when he saw her.

Merrill was tiny in death.

Anders could already hear the jeers of his companions in his head, _“this is_ your _fault,_ you _killed her, if it wasn’t for your_ stupid _rebellion she would be_ alive _.”_ Her hand was outstretched, and a short distance away Anders recognized Carver’s prone body lying in pool of blood.

_How many people would justice take?_

He couldn’t stand to look at them, but steeled himself long enough to slide Merrill’s glassy eyes closed. Hopefully she was with Marethari now.

Anders wondered how many more of his friends were dead. Justice replied _“as many as necessary,”_ and he pulled his hair in frustration. He had to look for the others. He had to _try._

The Hanged Man was barricaded shut, the alienage in flames, so he went to Hightown. Maybe they had taken refuge in the Hawke estate.

It was eerie how empty the city was, the only signs of life being birds and terrified looters. Fires burned piles of rubble crushing the bodies of mages and templars alike.

_In death, everyone is equal._

Hawke’s front door was open, slightly bent as though someone had rammed into it. Blood was spattered all over the doorway and he could hear panicked sounds inside. He pushed the door open.

“Hawke…?” A trail of smeared blood led to Hawke, crouched over Fenris. The elf had a deep gash across his exposed chest, his armor broken and discarded. Hawke held her hands over the wound, bathing it in healing magic. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of her name.

“Anders _help me!_ ” He stood, frozen. Fenris wasn’t moving, yet Hawke continued to heal him. Anders could do nothing but stare. His mouth went dry, his tongue turned to sludge, his palms started sweating.

_Not this. Anything but this._

“Hawke…” Tears were streaming down her face. Anders clenched his fists. “Hawke, he’s gone. There’s nothing you can do for him.” She gripped Fenris tighter, adamantly shaking her head.

“No, he _can’t—_ h-he promised me—” she broke into sobs, cradling his limp body to her chest.

“I cannot help you, Hawke. I’m sorry.” A vise clamped over his heart, and he forced his shaking hands to still. “I never meant for this to happen,” Anders whispered. He turned and exited the estate as Hawke’s sobs grew to screams.

_It’s your fault it’s your fault it’s your fault it’s your fault it’s your fault it’s your fault it’s your—_

Anders fell to his knees, clutching at his head. He could _hear_ their voices screaming in his head, accusing and cursing him.

 _“This is the price they must pay for justice!”_ His staff clattered to the ground as he fought with the spirit inside him, as he fought himself.

Anders glanced back at the broken, bloody door to the Hawke estate.

“No one deserves this,” he whispers to Justice, to himself. He stands, and walks away.

Anders walks out of the ashes of the city he’d once thought to call home.

He walks to the Wounded Coast, walks in the sand until his feet feel tired and bruised and he sinks to his knees, gazing at the ash-choked sky.

In a moment of clarity, he remembers the qunari mage from _years_ ago, ending his life in the very same position. Perhaps even the same spot.

Anders is no fervent believer of religion, but perhaps it is right that he dies for his cause.

Even if he isn’t a martyr, his flames will burn just as bright.


End file.
